


All You Need is Love - A Disney OTP Drabble Collection

by AvengingHobbits



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Star vs. The Forces Of Evil, Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Additional characters and ships added as they come, Dancing, Dorks in Love, Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt, starco, wildehopps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-07-19 18:56:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7373551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvengingHobbits/pseuds/AvengingHobbits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of random assorted Disney related OTP drabbles and ficlets.</p><p>Pretty much all fluffy tumblr promps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Do You Wanna Dance? (Starco)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 37: “Wanna dance?”

Marco shifted on his feet slightly as he twiddled his thumbs inside the front pocket of his hoodie. He wasn’t exactly sure which dimension Star had dragged him to, but apparently, it was one populated with what looked like living sock puppets who all wore sunglasses, and, according to Star at least, “danced like the craziest guys in the galaxy”.

“Yoooo! Marco!” Star called out, bounding her way up to Marco with a brilliant smile on her face. “Wanna dance?!” she shouted over the music, which was apparently some obscure euro-disco dance track from the seventies. How it got into this dimension, Marco would never know.

Marco meanwhile, responded to Star’s request with a shake of the head. “Star, I told you, I don’t know how to dance!”

Star rolled her eyes. “Pffft, liar, liar, pants on fire! You danced with me at the Blood Moon Ball, remember!” she gave him another smile. “You were great!”

Marco felt his face warm up, as the memory of waltzing with Star, and then the quiet moment on his balcony later that evening replayed in his head. He looked back at Star, and he wasn’t sure if it was just the lighting in the discotheque, or just his memories affecting him, but Star was looking just as pretty as she had on that night.

“Come on, Marco!!!” Star pressed, grabbing Marco’s hand. Marco bit his lip. _When did her hands get so soft_? He found himself thinking, as Star’s hand wrapped around his a little tighter, her expression softening, and her blue eyes seemingly starting to shimmer with sincerity. “I really, really wanna dance with you! I promise I won’t let anybody here make fun of you!”

Marco blushed slightly. He looked over her shoulder. All the sock puppet people seemed to be caught up in their own little dances, which looked like a weird gumbo of wiggling and hopping up and down in tune to the music.

“Uhhh…” He began, focusing his attention back on Star.

 _Gosh her eyes are so blue_.

“Come on!” she insisted, her smile now spreading across her face and making the little hearts on her cheeks dimple up. “Dance with me!”

Marco bit his lip again, taking a breath. Something about the look on Star’s face, the profound sense of friendship and warmth made a giddy, fuzzy feeling bubble deep inside of him.

He swallowed. He couldn’t resist that face.

“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s dance.”


	2. Dressing Room (Wildehopps)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OTP Prompt 24: “You’re the only one I trust to do this.”

“You’re the only one I trust to do this.”

Those words were always strangely surreal for Nick. He and Judy had been together for weeks now, and still, whenever she expressed trust in him, a strange, impossible to describe warmth would flow through him.

Of course, when coupled with the situation that they were in right now, it kind of took on an awkward element.

“You want me to see which bathing suit looks better?” He answered, eyebrows raising apprehensively.

“Yeah, I do,” Judy replied from behind the dressing room door. Her ears flickered anxiously, a nervous tick he’d always had fun poking lighthearted fun at.

“Uh…you sure? I mean, I think you’ll look great in anything, really.” Nick answered awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. He cast a quick glance towards another costumer, a stout otter who simply glanced back at him warily.

“Oh, you’re such a charmer,” Judy replied, the sound of the door unlocking reaching Nick’s ears. Nick braced himself, as he saw Judy peer around the slightly open door. “But seriously, I wanna know if I look good. I mean, back home, we don’t exactly go to the beach that much, you know? Bunnyburrow is landlocked.”

Nick nodded slightly, and Judy gave him her trademark (and incredibly adorable) half smile. “Okay then. So you’ll be honest, right?”

Nick nodded slightly. “Sure thing, Hopps.”

Judy smiled again. “Okay then!” she then shut the door, and her feet could be heard shuffling on the carpet for a moment before the door swung open to reveal…

Judy standing awkwardly with one hand behind her neck, a pink tint on her cheeks as she revealed herself to be wearing a bright bubblegum pink bikini.

“How do I look?” she asked, biting her lip and looking up at Nick expectantly.

Nick’s eyes were as wide as saucers, rendered entirely speechless.

Next thing Judy knew, Nick was on the floor, passed out, a massive dopey grin on his face.

“I guess he liked it.” Judy giggled to herself.


	3. Worst Cook in Zootopia (WildeHopps)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a tumblr prompt.
> 
> Prompt 008: “I love you a lot, but please stop trying to cook me dinner, you suck.”

Judy sat in her chair, worriedly twiddling her thumbs as she glanced towards the kitchen. It had been a long day at the station, with her and Nick toiling away at a veritable mountain of paper work that had been building over the course of the week. As soon as the pair arrived home, Nick had waltzed into the kitchen, boasting that it was _his_ turn to make the dinner.

At those words, Judy had nearly turned pale.

Now, of course, Judy was often the first to leap to Nick’s defense for a wide variety of things. He’d saved her life more times then she could count, he was her closest friend, her deepest confident, the fox she’d chosen to share her life with, after all. She would often gladly share a long, varied list of all the things that made him so wonderful to her. His humor, his wit, his steadfastness, his charm…

One thing she could not–would not–defend, however, was his cooking skills.

Mostly because it was glaringly obvious he had none to speak of whatsoever.

In this particular case, Judy was hoping it wouldn’t be so bad. So far, there hadn’t been any overwhelming amounts of cursing, no sounds of distress, and, mostly importantly, no billowing clouds of black smoke. So far all she’d heard was the occasional frustrated mutter, and the sizzling of _something_ on the stove. What that was, Judy had no idea, but she was sure it smelled quite unlike anything eatable.

She bit her lip when she saw Nick round the corner, wearing a heavily stained apron with the words _Kiss the Cook_ printed in bold, red letters. He strode over to the table, a self assured grin on his face, holding aloft a plate that he deftly slid in front of her.

What was on the plate was best described as some strange, pulsing blob of goop.

“Nick… what is this?” she asked, looking up at him with the best expression she could muster. Nick grinned broadly.

“It’s fried rice, Judy. Just how you like it.”

Judy looked down at the blob. She finally noticed that it was, in fact, vaguely like rice. For one thing, it was white, and she could make out the slushy remains of a few grains here and there, but overall, it held a greater resemblance to slime mold.

Judy let out a sigh, pausing to rub her forehead ruefully.

“Nick, I know what I’m about to say might be hard to hear, but I’m saying it with a lot of love…” she began, leaning back in her chair. “Honey, I love you an awful lot, but please, _please_ , stop insisting you make dinner.”

Nick’s grin turned upside down. “Why?” he asked, crossing his arms and arching an eyebrow.

Judy let out another groan, closing her eyes tight. She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to take all of the time Nick no doubt spent trying to craft this meal, and toss it away. She was a forgiving bunny, she told herself.

But sometimes, a line in the sand had to be drawn.

This was one of those times.

“Nick…you **_suck_** at cooking.”


End file.
